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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971080">Wings of Freedom</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IStillPlayWithLegos/pseuds/IStillPlayWithLegos'>IStillPlayWithLegos</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Short Drabbles by IStillPlayWithLegos [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood, Body Horror, Broken Bones, But make it a bloody wingfic, Gen, Gore, Horror, Levi Ackerman Needs a Hug, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, Vomiting, Wingfic, but mild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:13:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>903</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29971080</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IStillPlayWithLegos/pseuds/IStillPlayWithLegos</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn't happen to everyone. Some die gruesome deaths before they get the chance. Some will never experience it at all. But there are those who are <em> different</em>—those who are <em> special</em>.</p><p>Donning the winged cloak isn't enough. They need to believe in the cause. Desperately believe in the need for <i>freedom<i> the same way Erwin does. And the way his predecessors all did.</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Hange, too, believes in freedom, but not like Erwin. His freedom is founded in rigidity and order—By following commands. Hange's spirit is and has always been free. That's why the change came so easily to her. Her soul has been aching for freedom since childhood. Under Erwin, she is allowed to spread her wings.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>There's a reason why the Survey Corps are called the Wings of Freedom.</i>
  </i>
</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Erwin Smith &amp; Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman &amp; Erwin Smith &amp; Hange Zoë</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Short Drabbles by IStillPlayWithLegos [13]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Wings of Freedom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Uhhhh this is gross. Like skin ripping apart gross. Please read at your own caution. Also, I know Isayama hasn't explicitly specified pronouns for Hange, but I use female pronouns for her in this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It starts with nothing more than a prickle—a slight itch along his shoulder blades that refuses to go away. In the following days, the itch grows stronger to the point of uncomfort. In his brief moments alone, he itches vengefully. Scratching until blood coats the underside of his nails and drips down his back. </p><p>He takes to wearing his cloak during the day if only to spare his fellow soldiers the sight of his typically white shirt soaked through with crimson. If Hange and Erwin see him trying to scratch his back from the corners of their eyes, they say nothing. Levi must face this on his own, just as they did themselves. </p><p>It doesn't happen to everyone. Some die gruesome deaths before they get the chance. Some will never experience it at all. But there are those who are <em> different</em>—those who are <em> special</em>.  </p><p>Donning the winged cloak isn't enough. They need to believe in the cause. Desperately believe in the need for <em> freedom </em> the same way Erwin does. And the way his predecessors all did. </p><p>Hange, too, believes in freedom, but not like Erwin. His freedom is founded in rigidity and order—By following commands. Hange's spirit is and has always been free. That's why the change came so easily to her. Her soul has been aching for freedom since childhood. Under Erwin, she is allowed to spread her wings. </p><p>The itch gets worse, morphing from uncomfort to pain. Levi no longer scratches, yet rivulets of blood continue to flow, marring his bedsheets and clothes. The blood stains everything in its path, and he gives up on trying to clean it.</p><p>It gets worse and worse until it's the middle of the night, and he's stumbling to Hange's room, half-dressed, leaving blood and patches of <em> something </em> in his wake. She's insane, but perhaps she has medicine that will help, Levi <strike>prays</strike> thinks to himself.</p><p>The bang echoes through the hallway as Levi flings the door open. Several candles dimly light her room, and he can easily make out Erwin's features from his perch on Hange's bed. Hange herself sits next to him; her head cocked to the side as she listens to him read from the book he holds. </p><p>Erwin stops as Levi stumbles in and puts the book to the side. Hange gets up and silently helps Levi inside as Erwin shuts the door. Levi shudders away from her touch and falls to the ground on all fours below them.</p><p>They look down at his pained form not with pity but with mirth in their eyes. After tonight, Levi will truly become one of them.</p><p>Levi cries out in pain as the muscles in his back contract and move. Hange is fascinated by how his bones shift under his skin, but her hand is batted away by Erwin. All they can do is stand and watch. It's an age-old tradition for hatchlings to work their way out of the egg all on their own. They will watch, but they will not help.</p><p>Levi's back is on fire. He's never felt pain this horrid before. He wishes to someone—anyone—for this to end. His muscles and bones rearrange under his skin, making room for the new ones, which have been rapidly growing all week. </p><p>The first bone breaks through his skin, and Levi <em> screams</em>. </p><p>Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Levi realizes he's making enough noise to bring the entire barracks down to Hange's room. He doesn't know, but they won't come. The barracks they're in are reserved for mid-to-high-level military personnel. Everyone knows exactly why Levi is screaming. It's not up to them to help.</p><p>He falls over onto his side, grasping at his back where something feels <em> stuck</em>. They're sticky with blood and plumage when he pulls them back, but there is something else there. Where there should have been nothing but smooth skin, he can feel raw bone protruding through slits that have been ripped open. His finger accidentally dips inside, and the feeling as he scrapes across flesh and muscle has him retching onto the stone floor.</p><p>Levi dry heaves until there's nothing left but the <em> pain </em> of shifting bones. </p><p>It feels like his back is splitting open, and every breeze of air is like a thousand blades stabbing through him. He wishes the titan, which grabbed onto him on the last expedition, would have eaten him. Death would have been a sweet mercy in comparison to this.</p><p>Levi doesn't know how long he lays there in his own sick, but it's long enough for the pain to lessen to an ache. He twists at his waist and cries out in pain one last time as his back realigns. He rights himself onto his knees and almost falls backward when he straightens up.</p><p>There's a new heaviness behind him that he can't quite figure out. Whatever <em> shifted </em> in his back left muscle and bone, a structure which he could move. Bone crackles behind him, and he winces at the sharp pain.</p><p>Two familiar hands reach out to him and help him stand. He looks up at his friends and allows Hange to walk him over to her mirror. The light is dim, but he can just make out the mass of bone and bloodied patches of feathers sprouting from his back.</p><p>There's a reason why the Survey Corps are called the Wings of Freedom.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So yea... leave a comment or a kudos if you enjoyed this garbage. Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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